


Drifting in Warmth

by JoifulDreaming



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Comfort, Dreams, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:06:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24240283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoifulDreaming/pseuds/JoifulDreaming
Summary: Sometimes reality is the stuff of dreams.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 31





	Drifting in Warmth

Crowley wakes slowly to a feeling of warmth over his whole body. He doesn't open his eyes, but senses a faint glowing from behind his lids.

His heart clenches with memories: breathing life into stars in the palms of his hands. Setting them in place in the heavens and basking in the warmth and light they brought to an empty and dark universe.

But that was long ago and his experience since then was scalding and then ice cold, damp. Alone.

A deep breath in, surely this dream of warmth and safety and comfort will end soon. He'll wake up in his bed by himself, as always. Another day, another temptation.

But on that breath, a familiar scent. The scent of home and companionship-

_Aziraphale._

"Yes, I'm still here, dear."

He didn't know he'd even spoken. His eyes open up to a canopy of ethereally-lit, soft white feathers. His gaze drifts down and beside him to the source: Aziraphale's face is very close to his, sharing his pillow.

"Are you watching me sleep? s'creepy."

"You like creepy." Aziraphale's smile is soft, but his eyes sparkle mischievously. "You're beautiful when you're sleeping. You look so peaceful... I rather think I might give it a proper go sometime."

"Beau-? Hmmph, shut it." His words lack even the smallest bit of bite, a hand reaching out to gently comb through the feathers hanging over his head.

"It's early yet, my love," he feels Aziraphale shuffle closer, securing an arm around his chest and nuzzling his neck, "go back to sleep. I'm not going anywhere."

He's out again in moments, adrift in warm thoughts and a soft feather cocoon.


End file.
